writing
Member rating: No Rating | Words: 1600 | Submitted: Tue Mar 18 2008
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The gunshots and the squeal of the tires all sounded kind of mushed together with the sound of my body hitting the pavement. It was all unexpected. I mean, you never see something like that coming. It took me a moment to actually feel any pain. I seemed to have went deaf, but regained audibility only to hear my friend shouting "Oh Shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!" as he runs out of the corner store. Who knew that the two seconds I went outside of the store for a cigarette would result in me getting shot? The faint burning I was feeling in my gut turned to flames as time went on. I finally raised my head up to look down at myself. As I took my hand off my stomach, it reminded me of my finger painting days in kindergarten with Ms. Spitzer. Those were the days. No worries,...

